Aperture
by Oni Giri Slash
Summary: He's a manic on a Submarine. Slightly bent in the head and twisted in the soul, but with the clearest judgment and the power to keep one alive. The newest kind of adversary.


**Chapter One: XXiii**

**The cardinal number that is the sum of twenty-two and one.**

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><p><strong>33 miles East of Scarlet Base: Aboard Submarine vessel <em>Black Robin<em>. Control Room. 13:02.**

His eyes shone gold in the dim light. Determination and fires for the risks he took burned bright as the instruments around him lit his face with greens, blues and reds. A wry smile played on the edges of his lips, twisting his thin-lipped mouth. Raising his arms, he clutched the iron cold steel of the bar above his head.

"Alright, men!" He called to the people seated to either side of him – screens illuminated their faces slightly, the rest of their bodies dissolved into darkness. "We're diving!"

"Diving at fifty degrees, Captain, speed is reaching forty-five knots."

"Keep her going! We'll have this new hull pushed to its extreme!" He laughed manically and his crew looked at each other with a sideways glance and a slight roll of the eyes.

A dramatist at most he was, the man of a thousand eyes, undefeated in battle, and to deny him would make one's life a haunted one. There was a pertinacious look about his delicate frame that caused uneasiness in even the most emotionless hearts. His slender form and rather curved physique for a man was visually not intimidating in the least – in fact, there was something carefree and jolly about how the light reflected in his bright yellow-gold eyes and deep copper hair – but one would feel this savage presence when crossing his shadow. Despite his looks, the sunny-warmth of his voice, he was an angry creature. Somewhere inside of him something had been lost, twisted, wrenched out of him, leaving him breathless and forever trying to gasp for air.

His crew respected him deeply. Not for the crazy beast that dwelled inside him, rearing its ugly head whenever things failed to go his way – but respected him for his attempts to be the most civilised man he could be. His savagery had made him uncommonly kind, uncommonly generous, and uncommonly loyal. Being with him, working alongside him and being a friend to this man granted them a protection like none else.

The newest addition to the now six-strong crew was a young lizard-man named Zuto Zuko, and he suffered from bouts of fear and admiration towards his captain. His age also gave way to the violent fantasies of the possibilities that may have made such a jovial appearing man insane inside, and he often wondered if the rumours about the death of his enemies were true.

As he lowered the den-den mushi to the controls these thoughts occurred more vividly and wildly. "Uuuuuugh." He cleared his throat loudly, his other crewmates turned to look at him expectantly. "Erm…Captain?"

His higher-up looked at him from the opposite end of the control room, eyebrows raised invitingly. "What's up, Zuto?"

"It's Base." Even in the dark he noticed the white in the eyes of his comrades. The silence in the pause became awkward, and someone coughed loudly. "They…they want to know why you've taken the _Black Robin_ without permission."

In the silence, not even the rumble of the engine could be heard as everyone sat uneasily in their seats, hands rested on various controls, holding back their breaths.

"Really? And what did you say to them?"

Zuto swallowed. "I said I'd check with you."

"And what do you think I would have to say to them?"

"Go away?" The young lizard ventured cautiously.

The captain pulled a mock face of sadness. "Mmmm, no. Not quite."

"Get lost?"

"We're getting there. A little stronger."

"Piss off?" He flinched as the captain's hands came together in a loud explosive clap and a row of glowing teeth in his half smile.

"THERE WE GO!" He cried, turning his back onto his crew he excited the control room, slamming the heavy metal door behind him and spinning the wheel-lock shut with horrendous speed.

Zuto quickly reached for the den-den.

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><p><strong>Scarlet Base: Headquaters. Commodore's Office. 13:02.<strong>

"He said _what_!"

"'Piss off', sir. And then we lost communications with the _Black Robin_. I assume he's put tinfoil hats on the den-dens again, sir."

"Blast that unscrupulous man!" Horst growled; his granite-like teeth ground against their top counterparts audibly and it made the solider bearing the news wince in disguised disgust. "He's fooling around again with that bloody machine of his, and at this most crucial moment too! Well," he pushed the elaborate chair out from under him as he violently stood up, "time to make him pay for being a little pain in the backside."

The solider saluted: "And what would you have communications do, sir?" He asked as Horst stormed out of his office, slamming the weighted mahogany door shut behind him without a word.

The man lowered his hand from his forehead slowly, waiting for the Commodore to reappear again. He didn't, and the young soldier found himself dropping his hand to his side and looking about Horst's grandeur office.

Horst was unnaturally large for a man; but, the solider reasoned, most men on this side of the Red Line often were. It was probably the air, or the spray on the ocean that made only the obnoxious ones insultingly ginormous. It was as if something about the Grand Line made one's body inflate to the size of one's ego.

And Hurst's ego, in everyone's opinion, was explosive.

He just wanted _everything_.

The soldier looked about the expansive room, noting the leather bound books, the gold and jewel decorated globe that stood in the centre of his room in a cradle of carved Adam's wood, almost like a metaphorical heart; looked at the finesse of Hurst's violent oil painted tempest collections commissioned by infamous artists, to the array of animal jaws he had mounted behind his desk. His enormous desk chair was lined with the skin of a white ice-bear from somewhere in the East Blue. If there was an object Hurst had not got his hands upon then it was probably fictitious because _everything_ could be found in this room.

The soldier shook his head. It was no wonder as to why Commodore Hurst was gigantic.

...-~\...-.../~-...

Hurst thundered along the marble corridor, staring down anyone who approached and passed him in the opposite direction. There was now a faint red blush passing across his face, and his teeth were groaning loudly as he pushed open the double doors (realising and noting that he did not have double doors to his office and that he should remedy that as soon as possible) and marched inside the almost bare office of Admiral Marquand.

"He's wasting our time _again_!" Hurst thundered; crossing the room to throw his fist against Marquand's desktop. The impact shuddered the stone floor beneath their feet and the Admiral looked with a frown.

"It is not ideal, no," he admitted slowly, poking the ham-sized fist off from his desk. "But he'll be back. He always comes back. So, I suggest, you maintain a civil disposition and keep a regular check on our captor until he arrives."

The fist returned to the table with as much vigour as it had the first. "YOU'RE LETTING HIM GO _AGAIN_! THE MAN'S A LIABILITY!"

A flash of annoyance passed Marquand's face as he shooed the flesh off once again, before placing his elbows onto the deck, tenting his fingers together and peering over them. "You need to remember dear Hurst that the Elder Stars _need_ Captain Nami's prowess. You have to accept that while he has their favour we cannot have total control over him."

Hurst snorted through his nose, lifting the edges of several files littered around the desk; Marquand's eyes watched them move wearily. "He's not even true to the cause, Marquand! And he knows too much. Instead of risking everything why don't we just cut our losses and kill him? Am I the only one who sees that he's a double edged blade?"

"Indeed," the other replied slowly, moving his fingers rhythmically against each other, a darkness passing his eyes. "The time will eventually come that determines Nami's demise. And besides, he is only human. A single bullet to the heart will stop him with ease. It's just choosing _when_."

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><p><strong>2 miles East of Magnetic North: Aboard the <em>Thousand Sunny<em>. 13:02.**

When the sun finally could be seen it was Luffy's voice that could be heard all over the ship, even though there was some time to go before the _Thousand Sunny_ breached the surface of the ocean on the other side of the Red Line. He had climbed the mast to everyone screaming at him to not break the sealant which kept air around the ship, and pressed his face against it, eagerly awaiting the first break of light after the countless days beneath the sea.

It was an hour later when the _Thousand Sunny_ burst out of the water, causing a sky full of rain to come falling down around them in an array of light and rainbows. The sound of it hitting the bubble lightly, the scene was romantic.

Luffy's grin broadened as he threw himself backwards off the mast, his legs still clutching the wood, and he swung freely upside down holding his hat to his head. "WE DID IT!"

Below him his crew cheered. Most of them found themselves in an awkward embrace initiated by Franky, who was profusely crying behind his sunglasses, loudly claiming his love for everyone but denying the existence of those tears.

It sort of killed the moment as everybody tried to tenderly remove themselves from his clutches without being offensive. Robin watched on like she was logging such memories away, keeping track of all the good times she encountered and negating them against those which she had disguised as waking nightmares.

"UGH! Let go of me now you idiot!" Sanji snapped, being the only one who Franky now clutched desperately to as his tears continued to pour out from behind his tinted specs.

Nami held her stomach from laughter as the chef argued loudly, Usopp at his side trying to pry open the iron clad arms of the mechanic.

It was then she felt the shift in the water – of the floor beneath her feet. And behind her eyes she saw a storm ravage the sky, before it cleared and she was once more standing underneath a clear afternoon sky.

"CYCLONE! HURRY!"

Luffy's smile vanished as he flipped from the mast to the deck, looking up at the sky when his shoes hit the wood. About him ran his friends, attending to the masts in the way they had done so many times, calling to each other – arguments starting up without meaning between Sanji and Zoro, Usopp screaming at them to shut-up, Chopper reminding them now isn't the time, Robin standing as still as stone against the wind, Brook suddenly breaking into song, and Franky standing valiantly against the wheel, changing the course as per Nami's instructions.

When everything had been carried out everyone stopped.

The sky was still blue. The sun continued to shine.

A whole minute passed in silent and still anticipation. Usopp was the first to break.

"Guess there's no cy-"

It hit.

It hit with such ferociousness that the Straw-hat crew were, despite their preparations, caught completely off guard. There was no subtle gradation between the blue sky and the black storm – it was as though some greater force had switched off the light, and the sky was rendered in complete darkness. And the sea had gone from tranquil to boiling hot, the waves throwing themselves suddenly against the sides of the ship.

They had experienced fast approaching storms before but this one brought with it no warning. One either knew it was coming, or they didn't.

The weather on the opposite side of the Grand Line had a new rule all to its own.

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><p>AN: Wow. Haven't writ a word/story in aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaages. Just thought I would do a little something to get back into the mood of it :) bit of practice. Review if you like something, review if you don't, review to suggest! But enjoy anyways! ~ Giri


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